FOREVER KNIGHTS: #17 Marked As Mine

“What are you doing here? How did you get in?” There was a terrified shriek from the Blue Lark’s courtyard.

Dorena. Savage’s head whipped. Recognizing her voice.

He rushed out to the courtyard.

Dimurah on his heels.

Rushing over the swaying dock and onto the land he circled to the side and saw her standing with the booth between them.

Screaming her damn head off. His eyes narrowed on the cloaked assassin. Sniffing the air slightly he caught the odor.

She’s right. She knows what you are. Savage ran at him.

The intruder ran to meet him. His hood falling back. Revealing a gray veined head. Eyes tinged in orange.

Firoque.

“No, Jax. Don’t!” She cried. “We don’t know what happened!”

But I know what he is.

The Firoque drew a short, diamond shaped sword. Sharpened on all sides. And he swung it as though he knew well how to use it.

Savage skid to a stop. He ducked the first swing. Then stepped aside from the next one. Leaning to the left and then the right to smoothly dodge several more swipes.

Dimurah was behind him. Covering her mouth but knowing better then to shout and distract him.

“What are you?” The Firoque demanded. Growing more desperate as he swung faster.

Foolish. Now he’s clumsier.

“No one knows that.” An assassin from behind Savage shouted.

“Who’s the assassin?” Another man questioned.

“His name is Dire. But he didn’t used to look like that.” Another answered.

Dire? Savage recognized the amulet pinning his cloak now. It was indeed Dire. Before Radix got to him.

Savage saw Dire was tiring and he began upgrading from defensive to offensive.

When Dire swung he ducked it and then batted away the sword with a flat palm. Doing the same from the other side. Even as he picked up his speed.

When Dire tried a hip high strike. Savage rolled his back against him and caught Dire’s sword wrist in one fit. His other elbow came up and crunched into the man’s gray face.

He yelped and his nose splattered blood.

Savage’s swung that same elbow into Dire’s middle next.

Making the man fold against him as he crumpled gasping for air.

Savage twisted his wrist and stepped out from him until the man had to twist to keep Savage from breaking the joint.

The sword clattering against a rock in the dirt.

Savage folded the man’s arm up across his chest. Snapping it at the shoulder and elbow by bending it an unholy angle. At the same time Savage twisted to one knee and swept up the sword. Driving it through Dire. Then cutting it several inches to the right and then up then even further to the left. Zig zagging through the organs. Before stepping back to sweep the sword horizontally. Lopping off the man’s head.

To ensure nothing of the body or soul could be salvaged to serve Radix.

What looks like overkill is necessary to prevent Radix’s cimmerii. Savage had learned that well in the years he’d served the demon master.

When he dropped the blade into the dirt, Phalanx collected it.

“Are you going to collect everyone I throw in the dirt now?” Savage gave him a sharp look and shook his head in slight humor.

“It’s ritual now.” Phalanx explained. Taking it inside. “For the Wall of Shame.”

The wall has become a reminder to all would-be assassins. That’s what Phalanx had intended it for and it seemed to have worked since few Firoque had dared make a move on him or Murah in a while.

“Take care of the body.” Murah told her bodyguards.

“It’ll be done. We expanded the hole yesterday.” Markus nodded toward Savage. “When he got back.”

Phalanx swept up a stool behind the counter and stood on it to balance the blade on hooks he’d hammered into the wall months ago. “Perfect place for it.”

Dorena followed them inside, shivering.

“He didn’t do anything.” Dimurah chastised her. “Why were you screaming like that.”

“You don’t know what he is? Why he looked like that?” Dorena blinked huge eyes at Dimurah.

Good. Someone else can tell her.

“No.” Dimurah frowned. Looking to Savage for answers.

“I told you there were things beyond these walls that I can’t always protect you from.”

“What does that mean?”

“Cimmerii…” Dorena whispered as though the very word could summon one. “He hasn’t told you of them.”

“I saw no need.” He shrugged. Turning to collect her tankard.

I’d hoped to keep them away from her. But perhaps now it is time she knows.

She’ll certainly resent me less at night if she knows why I keep killing men in this guild.

“What he did was absolutely necessary!” He didn’t have to look to know Dorena gestured to his back. “That thing would’ve killed us all. Especially you and I!”

“Why us?” Dimurah’s pretty brow knitted.

Savage spared her a glance.

“How can she know nothing?” Dorena directed to him.

He twisted with his tankard. To better watch this unfold.

“You told her what I am?” Murah charged him.

He spit his drink back in the mug. “Me? What? No!” He shook his head. Glaring at Murah. “I told her nothing.”

I’d never tell anyone that.

“He didn’t have to.” Dorena caught Murah’s arm. “I can sense what you are. Just as you should be able to sense what I am…We’re one and the same.”

Murah frowned at her.

Oh, this is going to be interesting.

“The Hell we are!” Murah ripped her arm loose and stalked away.

“Suit yourself!” Dorena called after her. “Live in denial and see how long it takes for them to get to you.”

“That,” Savage interjected. “will never happen.”

“You can’t keep her safe here forever.”

He collected a new tankard. Lifting it for a dram. “Did I not just keep you safe?”

She met his look over the rim of his mug. Realizing he’d done just that.

Setting down his mug he turned fully back to the counter to watch Murah stalking behind it. “You’d be amazed what I’m capable of.”

“I think I’m beginning to see that.”